


The Lightborn

by DragonHoardsBooks



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, The Origin of Hobbits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 10:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19148878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonHoardsBooks/pseuds/DragonHoardsBooks
Summary: So where did Hobbits come from, anyway?





	The Lightborn

**Author's Note:**

> Beta credit to the wonderful Jahaliel!

_ “All those of the Quendi who came into the hands of Melkor, ere Utumno was broken, were put  there in prison, and by slow arts of cruelty were corrupted and enslaved; and thus did Melkor breed the hideous race of the Orcs in envy and mockery of the Elves, of whom they were afterwards the bitterest foes.” _ – The Silmarillion

Orcs know, down to their bones, that they are made wrong. Twisted. With no will of their own, their every act directed by their Dark Lord Melkor, they go through Middle Earth leaving destruction in their wake. But, in some strange way, they are yet the purest of all creatures of Arda, because they remember what the Elves had forgotten after leaving Cuivienen; how to see and feel the Light that rests in all of Illuvatar’s creations. And they hate the Light with every fiber of their being, for it is ever denied to them.

 

_ No name. No grace. No wish. Only the Pack and the Will of the Lord. And the pulsing Light,  bright-burning. He hates it even as he craves its touch that may be salvation. And death. For life is agony, and so he fights, slays, filled with hate. _

 

* * *

 

After the War of Wrath and the end of the First Age, Melkor’s influence over the orcs lessens. Not by much, but it is enough. There is a spark. And the Light remembers.

 

_ Nekuz looks at the small kit she had just birthed, lying on the ground and screaming. It looks like a proper orc, but it’s filled disgustingly, wrongly with Light. This thing would not be welcome in the pack, it is of no use and never would be. But slaying it would serve no purpose. She gets up and leaves the cave, leaving a screaming bundle behind. _

 

* * *

 

A Light born from the Darkness. Children that are orcs and are not. Most of them are killed outright, some die left behind and alone. But some of them are lucky and live in the mountains, half feral but always bathing in the Light. And half remembering the time their ancestors first looked to the stars and rejoiced.

 

_ She’s hiding, setting her steps quietly and keeping unheard and unseen. She knows the strange people who come into her valley sometimes don’t like her. Would kill her just like they kill the deer they hunt. But she listens to them and learns. Though she has no one to speak to, she learns the words. Tree. Water. Rabbit. Fire. She knows that people have names, though she has none. Until one day, a hunter stops by her favorite flower and she learns what it is called. Rose. It is a good name. _

 

* * *

 

After Sauron is beaten and the Third Age begins, things get both easier and harder for the Children born of Light in Darkness. With the hold of Darkness on the orcs even lesser, sometimes the Light Children are not killed. They are kept, to be taught as all orcs are, and twisted. But with living comes a chance of freedom.

 

_ They’d hidden as soon as the Elves arrived. Mituz, Azka, Shariz, and Inkra watch as their pack is killed and don’t know what to feel. On the one hand, the Elves are of the Light, just like them, on the other hand, the other orcs, dark and hateful as they are, are kin. _

_ “Do you think they’d take us with them?” asks Mituz, half afraid and half hopeful. _

_ “They should be able to tell that we aren’t Dark like the others.” Inkra slowly wiggles out of their hiding place and runs towards the nearest elf. The elf turns around, sees her, and raises his sword. Black blood spatters. _

_ “Orc filth”, he spits, then walks away. _

_ “I don’t think,” Shariz whispers softly “that they can feel the Light” _

 

* * *

 

As the great wars sunk into memory and peace filled the land, the terror of the orcs lessened. And men found compassion within the hate.

 

_ “That’s an orc.” _

_ “It’s a baby, it’s defenseless, and I will raise it.” _

_ Despite all expectations to the contrary, young Buck does not turn into a murderous beast. He has an almost otherworldly fascination with growing things, so it comes to no surprise that he turns into the best farmer of the village. And small and light-footed he may be, but he can do the work of a grown man just the same. _

 

* * *

 

So it was the men who first accepted the Lightborn, as they called themselves, as part of the world. As some Lightborn married Men and lived in the Light, they slowly lost the appearance of orcs.With that loss they lived more openly until even a passing elf would not have recognized their origin. The Holbytla of the Green Fields, great farmers and wary of outsiders, who were peaceful but never forgot where they came from. And as the shadow of Dol Guldur rose in the Greenwood, they left.

 

_ “Gather round, children, for it is time you learned the lessons of the Wandering Days. It is then, and only then, that we realized that even as he cursed us, the Dark One gave us a gift. We were made from elves, but we are not them. We can endure anything that does not kill us immediately. He needed his armies to be plentiful, and so we have an ease with birthing children no other race of the Light has. Without those gifts, that our dark cousins share, which makes them so dangerous, we would not have survived the dangers until we reached the Shire.” _

 

* * *

 

The Shire was established, and the Hobbits lost even more attributes of their birth race. What the other races, who called them weak and in need of protection, didn’t understand is that it was a very deliberate process. Every Hobbit knew that if they really wanted it, violence would come to them as easy as breathing. So they eschew it. It took centuries for them to find true peace, true freedom, and they will not risk losing it now. So they grew things, they raised their numerous children and every day they celebrated the Light. Until they were threatened.   
  


_ Blood. Screams. Death. Bilbo Baggins is in the middle of a battle and fights for his life. His dwarves always wanted him to train with Sting more, but honestly? He doesn’t need to. His blood knows fighting, even as his mind rejects it. So he kills orc after orc, defending his friends and fighting for all that’s right and good in the world. _

 

_ Hobbits know the Dark they came from, years of death and suffering for them to reach this point. But they are the Lightborn, and they will not falter. _

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on my tumblr @dragonhoardsbookz


End file.
